


Rainbows in the Rainbow

by Grain_Crain



Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Internal Conflict, LGBTQ Themes, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-30 16:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19407430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grain_Crain/pseuds/Grain_Crain
Summary: Kaid feels ease of being himself when he is with his lover. But will he be able to overcome the internal conflict and achieve what he seeks?





	Rainbows in the Rainbow

**Author's Note:**

> This is a part of ['SUNS OUT, GUNS OUT'](https://dualrainbow.tumblr.com/post/185544002818/suns-out-guns-out) event, where R6S fandom writers compose fics about the operators being in the Pride Parade. Check out other writers who's done amazing work! They are all stunning and beautiful :D

The shimmering gold and red silk bounced in rhythms as they brushed against the excited guests who cheered for the romantic union. Drums and strings weaved uplifting chords while singers chanted blessings in traditional melodies; the tempo accelerated when the crowd clapped at the sight of elegant roofed platform carried by four men. Between those golden-engraved pillars and plated walls of silver, there sat a bride who wore bright yellow cashmere dress and jewelry that sparked against the spotlight. It’s as if they were gazing upon a goddess who waved greetings and farewells to her people. 

“Oh, your aunty looks amazing,” A tiny squeal reminded him that he wasn’t the only child mesmerised, “I bet you’re jealous.”

“No I’m not!” The boy nudged at his distant cousin.

“Yes you are! Boys can’t ride on the _amaria._ It’s only for ladies.”

“Well, I don’t need that stupid platform.” He stuck a tongue out in defiance but looked around in case other adults heard their conversation.

“Of course you’ll need it. How else are you going to marry your wife?” The girl was painfully obnoxious.

“Because I don’t want a wife.” He meant to whisper that little bit of confession. It was meant to be kept a secret until the girl’s mocking laughter grabbed the attention of several other bystanders, including his parents. He never forgot how they appeared confused at first. Their worry slowly turned into a judging leer, a coercion for him to explain the atrocity he spat out. 

“What did you say, my boy?” His father rattled the young boy’s heart with a question that already had a model answer.

“Nothing, _baba_.” The son gave a wrong response.

“A man must marry a woman and continue the blood lineage of family. I’m sure you understand. Unless,” Those larger hands easily wrapped around the thin shoulders, “You have a _different_ idea.” 

“No! I just- I thought-” The bystanders started to notice the commotion. Those lingering eyes and whispers rang an alarm bell; he needed to say whatever before the pressure forces out a part of him they would frown upon.

“Yes?”

“I don’t want to get married. It’s too boring and I want to spend all my time in the fortress.” He winced as the nails dug into his bony frame. The piercing ache traveled from skin to deep tissue, then the veins that froze in tension he couldn’t bare. The music had stopped and crowd stood still while staring down at the boy who clenched on his chest. The mute atmosphere couldn’t be suffocating enough, especially in the absence of dazzling scenery had dissipated into stark black surrounding. The only source of light was coming from the same spotlight that shone the bride that was nowhere to be seen. A harsh white that pinned the boy in the centre of attention. 

“Is that what you want?” His father’s voice rang in the eerily quiet venue.

“Yes.” The boy croaked, and then gasped when he felt an elevation as if he grew a little taller within a second. Despite the warmth from his father’s hands, the boy was still shaking from inexplicable chill that emanated from his heart.

“Living for the fortress?”

“I said yes!” He grew again and wasn’t a boy anymore. There stood a teen who still couldn’t break free from his father’s hand, no matter how much he shook and shivered.

“Without anyone special in your life?”

“I have troops and family. Isn’t that enough?” His height jumped to the point where his father’s feet lifted off from the ground. The older man still clenched on his son’s shoulders, but he hardly felt the pain. Had he become numb? Or was his father losing strength in his grip?

“What will be left of our family?”

“There are others, _baba._ I have a legacy to uphold as a commander and it’s mine. Mine and mine alone.” The son had become an adult who can easily look down upon everybody in the room. The coldness had enveloped his entire body and rendered him rigid. Everybody had to lift their head up to look at him, even his father who seemed so small compared to a moment ago.

“What will be left of you?” Contrary to how he was before, his father’s thunderous boom had descended into a raspy howl. 

“The fortress! How many times do I have to tell you?” The son snatched those wrinkled wrists away from his shoulder. He didn’t realise how thin they felt in his grip; in fact, too thin because they slipped out of his hand. It was like trying to get hold of a sandy grain that slid down through an hourglass.

“Son,” It happened within a matter of seconds. His father, once a proudly robust man, became a frail remnants of flesh and bone. And as all frail things do, his father shattered from the height that he was dropped, “My son.” A whisper was carried through the wind that blew the dust away.

“ _Baba,_ no,” From a body of a full grown man, a familiar squeak of a child wailed, “ _Baba!_ ” 

He gasps for air as the nightmare unveils, freeing him from the fear that had blinded him until his father’s timely death. Sweat on forehead, damp palms and humid space under duvet. It would’ve been an unbearable night to spend alone, so he is thankful to have another man lying right next to him. Well, he isn’t just a man; a comrade who became a friend, then a lover who captured his heart with irresistible charm that he once thought as cocky arrogance. 

“Who’s _baba_?” A deep gravelly voice is full of sleep-induced dryness. 

“Don’t worry about it. Go back to sleep.”

“Jalal, _amore_. You know what I do when you order me around like that,” As an act cheerful defiance, the lover plants a kiss on Kaid’s forehead; the older man squints when a hairy stubble gives a light tickle on the bridge of his nose.

“You Italians don’t ever listen, hm?” Kaid cracks an age old stereotypical joke that they share at times. An expired tease that some people often shrug off, but certain someone finds it a good opportunity to retaliate with the same level of audacity.

“And all Moroccan men are ever so bossy,” Maestro picks on the other man’s graying facial hair, “Tell me. What made you wake up like this?”

“Nothing new.” Kaid explains his childhood again, just like the first time he was nagged by Maestro to share a personal history. A good old traditionalist family, strict father who hid affections in disciplines and rules that had to be upheld. It was far too difficult for a ten year old boy who was led to believe that he had to fit in the system. It was fifty years too late to notice the anxiety that put him on constant guard had lost its edge as it became dull. He should have realised that it won’t matter as he outlives those who disapproved of him. There’s no regrets in choosing the fortress, and yet the journey driven by ambition turned into a lonely path. 

“I see. Is it because of our schedule for tomorrow?” Maestro gives a gentle squeeze on Kaid’s shoulder.

“Perhaps, but it’s what I’ve decided.” Being away from the fortress has been a real eye-opener. Changes are necessary for personal growth and only then Kaid began to think about future plans. The retirement that he would like to have, which is a little less than half of his lifespan. Therefore despite the nervousness, he has decided to be more open and accept Maestro’s suggestion to attend this ‘pride’ event. The wind of change must go on.

“Don’t worry too much about it. We’ll be there together.” Maestro pulls Kaid closer for a tight embrace and endless smooches. Kaid normally complains the kisses make his face uncomfortably wet, but he doesn’t have the energy to push the other man away. Especially when he needs every bit of love and comfort after a reminisce of unsettling memory. He falls asleep eventually and is happier to doze off into nothingness rather than a dream.

* * *

When he wakes up again, it’s a cold morning where the sun begins chase away the night. Kaid doesn’t need an alarm clock; his body is conditioned to stir a little before five in the morning. Quite a good habit to prepare and plan ahead for the day, so he sits up to leave the warm bed as quietly as possible.

“Five more minutes.” The downside of being an early bird is that he awakens a cuddly bear who pulls him back in.

“Not today, _habibi_.” Kaid tries to pry off a pair of hairy forearms off of his waist.

“We’re off duty, for God’s sake. Who will warm me up when I shiver alone?” Maestro chuckles as he nuzzles on the broad back.

“Well, I need to iron my clothes.”

“Your clothes?” Maestro pauses for a bit, “As in your burgundy pants and white buttoned shirt?”

“You know it well.” Kaid attempts to leave again but fails when Maestro tightens the hold.

“No, no, no,” Maestro sits up and cooes, “That’s no way to celebrate the most colourful day. I’m glad that I’ve asked Ryad to lend us some of his.” He proceeds to open up a leotard-patterned suitcase that has been hiding under their bed and reveals an array of flamboyance. Patterns of palm tree prints, feathers, black and glossy gold stripes. Some of them had the letter ‘V’ and ‘L’ and others had black, red and white checks with beige background on them.

“Why him?” Kaid sighs in resignation because he is fully aware that Maestro never gives up on one idea that he feels very confident with. However, he has to ask, “Surely Al-Hassar can’t be the only tall man you could have asked?”

“Cowden? Trust me. You don’t want to see what that guy wears.” Maestro scoffs as he gleefully describes Sledge’s sloppy attire. It all sounds normal and casual to Kaid, but he listens to his partner and pays more attention on those brown eyes twinkling with humour and lingering slumber.

“Hm, fine. I shall choose some from here later after breakfast.” That’s an attempt to sneak away from a self-acclaimed fashionista. He’ll have to make a choice eventually, but he’d rather do it when Maestro is too busy fixing them a meal or having the usual long shower. Once Kaid puts on clothes, he tends to keep them on throughout the day. He can thank the small agreement they made to control Maestro’s ‘enthusiasm’ during their earliest period of relationship; no stripping when the sun’s up.

* * *

The trip to New York city is far from peaceful. Maestro complains about the horrible mismatch of a red Paisley buttoned short sleeve and the same burgundy pants that Kaid chose; to which Kaid retaliates by stating how Jackal’s style of clothing lacks a sense of modesty. The couple bicker constantly without a break and it finally sets off the other passengers who are also carpooling for the Pride parade.

“So fucking cramped in here,” Ela groans as she leans on Caveira’s shoulder. The Brazilian whispers something, which prompts Ela to let out a soft giggle, “Yeah, but don’t actually do that.” 

“If Imagawa didn’t make a bet against those Americans, we would have two vans to ride instead of one.” Echo should have expected at least a punch from Dokkaebi because she isn’t the type to sit still when her girlfriend is insulted. Vigil is the unfortunate soul who is squished between his CTU mate and boyfriend, and Kaid then understands why the Korean hovered around the driver’s seat before their departure. The recluse would have taken the role as designated driver if Kaid, the eldest of all, wasn’t sitting there already.

“Now, now, children. We’re nearly there.” Maestro doesn’t seem phased even when his seat is being kicked due to the rowdiness behind him. Kaid is tempted to bellow or step hard on the break to startle those wild kidults, and yet he somehow prefers to have a minimum distraction rather than silence. It’s hard to determine whether the imaginary tightness in his chest is due to anticipation or age-old anxiety. Either or, he’s in no rush to pinpoint which one’s which until he arrives at the destination. He has come this far and there’s no way he’ll allow the same fear be a hindrance again. _There's no one to tell that he is too old for this._

“That’s a lot of people.” Caveira’s lip curls in displeasure as she looks out the window. All of them can see the barricades that clears the road and the excited buzzing crowd. Kaid also notices that the majority of them are at least twenty years younger than him. It wouldn’t be strange if one of them comes up to him and asks whether he is here to drag a rebellious grandchild back home.

“Will we even have a place to park?” 

“Don’t worry about it. You lot can get off first and enjoy the parade.” Maestro gives them a thumbs up, which prompt Ela and Caveira to hop off hurriedly. Hibana and Vigil have to be persuaded to not feel guilty, so he reminds them that their lovers might have another feat of fisticuffs if they stay in the backseat any longer. A fine excuse to have some privacy for the older couple. Kaid is thankful and mildly irritated at the same time. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” The leather on the wheel squeaks as Kaid clenches on it.

“Yes, I do. How else am I going to rip off those ugly pants?” Maestro dares to kid around and grins when he’s met with a fierce glance.

“What a joke! Clowns can do better.” Kaid doesn’t hesitate to drive rougher than before and scoffs when Maestro feigns a gasp. 

“Oh, I love taking compliments from you.” Maestro pats Kaid’s thigh and keeps his hand there until they are safely parked somewhere not too far from the parade. Car key pulled out and ignition is dead. Thoughts start to muddle under the calm mask that Kaid wears so well, but there are times when he can’t hide a sense of insecurity. Every bit of his facial muscles can stay perfectly still except the eyes. The shifting stare becomes more prominent when he’s with someone who he has opened up to, and Maestro is quick to catch the sign.

“Shall we go?” Kaid lifts the hand that’s been giving him a warm patch. 

“Only if you are ready,” There’s a resonance in Maestro’s voice when he lowers the tone, “Jalal, we can spend the day however you wish. We don’t have to attend the parade and there are a lot of things to do in New York.” 

“I wish to spend it with you and celebrate the event that’s for us,” Kaid wants somewhere else on his body to be warmed up, “It’s for me as well.” He leans in for a hug and nudges Maestro to lay on his shoulder. Their shared body temperature seeps through the shirt and Kaid is glad that he is wearing something thin this time.

“I’m so proud of you.” They melt into each other’s arms and would have stayed that way if the day isn’t so damn hot, so they get out in a hurry to head towards the parade. 

The crowd is denser than Kaid had assumed, but it plays as an advantage for him to be more confident in holding Maestro’s hand. No one says anything about two men intertwining their fingers together. Not a soul stops to leer at fully grown men being physically closer while overstepping the boundaries. Despite the walls of body heat, Kaid finds it easier to breathe than the spacious home from his childhood. When he catches sight of graying hairs in amidst of bobbing human heads, there’s a familiar rattle in the chest that he thought he had forgotten. _By Gods, he isn’t alone._ _He’s never been alone all this time._ Regret ties a knot in the throat and relief straightens it, and those two emotions repeats until he releases a shaky whimper. All those time thinking that he’s in the wrong, all those time his father thought his son is in the wrong. Kaid wishes that his father can come back alive to see all these people celebrating themselves. _But he’s dead, Jalal. And you chose to keep yourself a secret_.

“How are you feeling?” Maestro brings Kaid back to reality as he has done in the morning.

“Better,” Kaid blinks to dissipate stinging warmth in his eyes, “Much better.” Bitter past will haunt him from time to time, and yet it has brought Kaid here in the present. Everything he had done has led him up to this moment. He simply had to walk out of the fortress to walk in the forest, and enjoy what the world has to offer. He can finally enjoy being in the Rainbow.

**Author's Note:**

> A little background of how they met. I didn't know where to put this one because I wrote it after I finished the fic ;_;
> 
> When they first met, Kaid thought someone like Maestro won't be the man who he can rely on. Maybe it's the unrelenting confidence that exaggerates Maestro's charm, which Kaid used to regard as arrogance or overtly zany. Then Kaid had learned that Maestro is a hardworking man with a heart of gold. The man goes out of his way to ensure that everybody is at ease so they can operate better as a group. He felt a mysterious attraction towards the man who seemed to linger around whenever they were in the same room, to which he found out that their feelings are mutual. 


End file.
